


The Wrong One and the Right One

by issabella



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Erik Logic Is The Best Logic, Erik is drunk, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, especially when Erik is drunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-28
Updated: 2013-05-28
Packaged: 2017-12-13 06:58:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/821373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/issabella/pseuds/issabella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik is at a club. When he returns from the toilet that cute guy he has been chatting up seems to have gone. But then he finds him again, though have his eyes been that blue before?</p><p>This is mainly drunk Erik flirting with the wrong guy, or is it the right guy after all?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wrong One and the Right One

**Author's Note:**

> I got shortly distracted from my other fic, cut up my heart, but will return to it right away. This is just a fluffy little oneshot, that needed to be written. Inspired by a little exchange with my beta. So thanks for the inspiration and help my speedy beta-turtle [Lonelyparts](../../../users/lonelyparts/pseuds/lonelyparts).

Drunkenly, Erik staggered out from the toilet and back into the club. Now, where had that cute guy he had been talking with got to? He couldn't spot him at the bar, nevertheless made his way over there first. He braced himself on the counter and let his gaze sweep over the crowd, looking for a mop of brown hair and a green shirt. Not an easy feature to use for identification, when half the people in the club had brown hair. And, he had to admit, his memory of how the guy looked was a bit hazy. He'd already had downed some drinks before he had started chatting the guy up, add to that the dim flickering lights...

 

Perhaps he should ask around if anyone had seen him, just.. what was his name. "Charles!" Right.

 

"Yes?"

 

He looked to his side at someone sitting on the bar-stool. Someone with brown hair and wearing a green shirt. "Oh, there you are! I was starting to wonder where you ran off to."

 

"What?" Charles looked at him, blue eyes wide with confusion.

 

Erik stared. Those eyes were mesmerizing. Though he had thought that they were a murky green before. But maybe the bad lighting was playing a trick on him. He took a deep breath for the most soul-wrenching proclamation of adoration he could muster. "You have the most amazing eyes... like the ocean in a lagoon. I feel like I'm being carried away by invisible currents out to sea when I look into them!"

 

"Are you a poet?"

 

Sighing, Erik draped an arm across Charles' shoulders. "No, I already told you, I work in aeronautical engineering." But he had already noticed that the guy - though cute - sadly was not the brightest. But you just couldn't have it all.

 

"You did?" But then Charles smiled at him and Erik decided that those red lips, that could be the envy of any cupid, definitely made up for the 'not so bright' bit. Especially if Erik could get Charles to wrap them around his cock later.

 

But then Charles conceded. "I'm sorry, I must have been distracted by your uh,” he ran his gaze up and down Erik's form. “- everything.. mhm... so, what field do you work in exactly? Aircraft structures, material science, electro-technology...?"

 

"How do you, I thought..." Erik stopped himself in time. He was not as drunk as yet to accuse Charles of being dumb. Or having appeared to be dumb the first half hour they had spent conversing. Maybe he had held back, or really been distracted. "Control engineering actually, that is..."

 

"...the study of mathematical modelling of the dynamic behaviour of systems and designing them."

 

"Do you, are you..." Now he was sure Charles hadn't been _that_ clever before. Hadn't he said he worked at a coffee shop? Now he sounded like he were an engineer himself!

 

"Oh no, my field is genetics. But I've got a friend who works in engineering, so I pick up the odd thing or two."

 

"You are not as drunk as I am!" Erik stated with all the earnestness he could muster.

 

Charles smiled. "I guess I'm not. Seems I'm still waiting for you to buy me a drink.” He gave Erik a cheeky wink that went straight to his cock.

 

Quickly Erik waved the bartender over and went to order the same drink Charles'd had before, but Charles wrinkled his nose in apparent distaste. “Sorry, don't like cocktails. I'll take a whisky.”

 

“Oh – sure – but...” But he had been certain Charles'd had exactly that sticky cocktail before. This was starting to grow maddening. Then their drinks arrived and Charles was taking a sip, looking over the rim of the glass up at Erik all seductive-like and Erik decided it wasn't important. “Okay. I'll....”

 

And then Charles put the glass down and licked his lips and all Erik could think of was how they would taste, with the hint of whisky still on them. He realised he had leant closer, his mouth mere inches away from Charles'. But Charles raised a hand and Erik was sure that he would stop him, but then he only touched the side of his own forehead. Erik could feel the warm breath against his mouth as he spoke. “I'm sure you told me already, but indulge me. What is your mutation again?”

 

He had told him before, so why the hell was he asking? Maybe Charles suffered from bad short term memory and that's why he had appeared not that bright before. Though right now Charles seemed very bright and cute and kissable. “I...” Would it be too forward to simply kiss Charles?

 

“Yes?”

 

Charles didn't seem to mind that he had invaded his personal space. “Would you mind if I kissed you?”

 

For a moment Charles looked startled but then he got that little bit closer himself. “Trading a kiss for you telling me about your mutation – seems only fair.” Then he kissed Erik. There really was a hint of whisky still on his lips but then there was the taste that was simply Charles, and...

 

The kiss left Erik feeling hot and tingly all over. His heart was beating faster and he was positive, even if he were sober, this was one of the best kisses ever.

 

Charles looked pleased too. “So will you show me, or tell me?”

 

Show him what?! Then he remembered. Charles wanted to know about his mutation. “I can control magnetic fields. Think magnetism.” He looked around, noticed the stainless steel cocktail shaker, currently unattended. He stretched out his fingers towards it and made it float over to them.

 

“Hey!” The cocktail shakers flight was interrupted by the bartender grabbing for it. Erik let it go with a rueful grin.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Show off your powers somewhere else!” Grumbling the bartender put the shaker back, throwing Erik another warning look.

 

“That's brilliant! What's your limit? I mean, what else can you move? An aeroplane? A satellite dish?”

 

Charles' obvious excitement for his power made him feel elated as well, though he had to disappoint. “I do practice it a lot, but no, nothing that big. Though maybe one day. I know you said your mutation was only small, but those things don't really matter. I think all mutations are beautiful. No matter if they show in... big ears, a tail, green, blue or red skin-colour or are invisible and don't seem like much use. But they are yours – to explore and to use.”

 

Charles' smile seemed to waver though he looked at him with sparkling eyes. “Really – all mutations? What about – scary ones, like telepathy.”

 

“The mutation in itself is not scary. The mutation doesn't define the person, it's the person that defines the mutation!” Erik stopped for a moment to revel in the high wisdom of the sentence he had just spawned. He smiled a drunken pleased smile.

 

Though Charles still looked a bit doubtful.

 

Erik straightened and took a deep breath. “Look, if a psychopath... like Hannibal.”

 

“Hannibal?”

 

“Yes, you know? From the TV-show - eats people.”

 

Charles chuckled. “Oh, yes, I know. Okay, I'm with you again.”

 

“Right. So if he were a telepath. That would be terrible and scary. But if someone like … like you -” For emphasis Erik put his hands on Charles' shoulders – purely for emphasis, not because those broad shoulders looked perfect to put one's hands on. “-who is nice and sweet and charming and absolutely gorgeous were a telepath, it wouldn't be scary.”

 

Charles laughed. It hadn't been the effect Erik had aimed for, but, oh it was nice. And he felt kind of proud to have made Charles laugh.

 

“So you mean it is okay to be a telepath, as long as you don't eat people?”

 

“Yes.” It was pretty clear, wasn't it?

 

Charles leant in closer. “Then I'm glad I can tell you, that I...”

 

“Erik! There you are. I've been waiting for you!” Someone tugged at Erik's arm. Erik turned, annoyed at the intrusion and found himself face to face with... cute guy, brown hair, green eyes... wearing a green shirt.

 

“Charles...” _'Fuck...! That can't... they can't both... oh fuck – fuckfuckfuck!'_

 

He and Charles looked, not alike, but they were similar.

 

“Yes. I told you I would go and sit over there.” The guy – the other Charles - pointed to somewhere at the back of the club. Erik remembered – vaguely – now. The guy looked uncertainly between Erik and Charles.

 

“Oh...” Erik looked back at his Charles, that was, Charles number one. Or was he by rights number two, since he met the other one first? He looked amused, though also a bit disappointed. _'Fuck. He must think me the biggest drunk idiot...'_ Erik wanted to say something to salvage the situation, to explain, but the other Charles was taking his hand. “Erik? I took our drinks back there, but if we don't return the seats might get taken.” _'… and an ass-hole. Chatting up two guys simultaneously and...'_

 

He looked back at the other Charles who bit his lips uncertainly. Erik cursed himself some more. He couldn't just drop him, just 'cause he met... well, the perfect Charles. Erik swallowed hard. “Yes, I'll – just a moment.” He tried to think of anything to say to _the_ Charles to let him know he would like to talk to him some more. He turned just as Charles stood up. “It was nice talking to you. See you around, maybe.” And he brushed past him and disappeared into the crowd. ' _FUCK!'_

 

Erik pulled himself together, grabbed his drink from the bar and followed the other Charles. He felt he wasn't yet drunk enough for the mess he had made.

 

xxx

 

The next morning Erik woke alone, in his own apartment with a horrible hangover. After last night's events he was glad about the first two, and deemed the third to be a justified punishment for his big fuck up.

He would have liked nothing better than to stay in bed and drown in sorrow about how he'd messed up his chances with Charles. The cute, charming, clever incredible good kisser - the _right_ Charles. But he had to get to work. So he crawled out of bed, took a hot shower, downed half a litre of orange juice and swallowed two pills for the pounding headache. And since he didn't like a mess, he collected last night's discarded clothing from the floor and threw everything into the hamper for washing. Out of habit he checked the pockets of his trousers for change. He fished out a napkin from the back-pocket and meant to throw it away but he noticed something scribbled on it.

 

call me, 347-541-1110

Charles

 

xxx

 

Erik was at work, nursing his second coffee and staring at the napkin and the number scribbled on it. To call or not to call, that was the question. Or the real question, from which Charles had he got it? He couldn't remember. Actually he couldn't remember much at all from the point on where _right_ Charles had gone, and he'd left to go sit with the other Charles. He had tried to be pleasant, but his heart wasn't in it and he had drank to drown his shame.

 

There was a knock at the door and Hank entered. He gave him a nervous smile. “Erik, I know you didn't want to be disturbed, but the team meeting is in five...”

 

Erik didn't even bother to look up. “Yes... coming.”

 

Hank hesitated. “I know it's none of my business, but are you alright?”

 

“No..” Erik shook his head and looked up. What was he saying. He should not talk about his private misery – least of all to Hank, who was socially awkward, and... “Yes. That is...” There was a thought. “Have you ever done something stupid and awkward that made you look like an utter fool. But then you got a chance to – maybe redeem yourself?”

 

Hank blushed. “Uh.. I don't want to go into details, but, uhm, yes. But what has that to do with...?”

 

Erik waved a hand impatiently. “And did you take that chance? Even if that basically meant you would have to admit that you messed up big time and really are – stupid!”

 

Hank rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes. A friend of mine always says, if it's for the right reason, it's okay to look foolish. I mean like, if it's worth it.”

 

Erik stared down at the phone-number again. So that meant, he should take the chance. What was the worst that could happen? The worst really was, that it was the other Charles. But then they would meet, Erik would be sober and he could apologize and let him down gently. If it were the _right_ Charles. Well there would be some explaining to do, but there was the prospect of a real date. And maybe even more. If the _right_ Charles had given him this number, he must have left some tiny bit of a good impression, despite the 'mistaking one Charles for the other fuck-up'.

 

Hank cleared his throat.

 

Frowning, Erik looked up. What was Hank still doing here? Didn't he have places to be, work to do?

 

“So, are you coming? To the meeting!”

 

“What, oh yes. I'll be right there!” Erik reached for his phone. “There is just one thing I have to do before I go.”

 

xxx

 

Erik sat in the park, at one of the unoccupied chess tables. He even had brought a set of chess-pieces, just in case this was not only meant as an easy to find meeting place but Charles really wanted to play. He had also brought grapes, some sandwiches and wine.

 

From the short conversation on the phone, Erik hadn't been able to make out which Charles it was. He thought it was the right one, but he didn't dare be certain - yet. And he hadn't wanted to ask, because he felt that would only add to the general 'fucked-up-ness' of the situation.

 

He looked at his watch. He had come early and it actually still was fifteen minutes before their allotted date time. To kill some time – and soothe his tightly strung nerves – Erik pulled out the chess pieces. They were all made of different metals, a gift from his parents and, so he hoped, a good luck charm for today. He concentrated and let the pieces float to their designated spots on the inlaid chessboard on the table. He was so lost in what he was doing, that he didn't notice when someone approached. Just as the last piece had settled, a familiar voice said: “That was truly brilliant!”

 

Erik looked up and his gaze was instantly captured by a pair of blue eyes that looked down at him intently. Charles gave him a bright hopeful smile then licked his lips nervously. “Now as I just was about to say yesterday, I'm a telepath, and I'm glad to tell you that I don't eat people. And though I seem to be the wrong Charles you meant to talk to, I would very much love to continue our conversation.”

 

Erik quickly got to his feet. His heart was racing in his chest, his throat felt suddenly tight and he was struggling with what to say. _'But you are the right one, the very right one!'_

 

Charles' little gasp and how he blushed told him that he must have heard. _'Wow... telepath. Right. That's neat.'_ Erik's smile brightened. “How about some sandwiches and a game of chess then?”

 

“Sure.” They settled down. “How well do you play?”

 

Erik didn't want to boast but, “I was top of the chess club at my school. You?”

 

“I played since I was five.”

 

Erik raised an eyebrow at that. Wow, little genius there?

 

Charles looked at the white pieces on his side, and lifted one, curiously, letting his fingers slide over the metal – in a very sexy way, as Erik found. “So how about we make this game really interesting then? A kiss for a lost piece?” There was a short memory- flash of yesterday's kiss in Erik's head. Only it was not his own but clearly from Charles' perspective. Obviously he had enjoyed it just as much as Erik had.

 

Erik laughed. “Wow. Okay. Seems only fair. Just tell me, what else can you do with your telepathy?”

 

Charles' eyes twinkled with a wicked smile and he made his move. “To find that out, you will have to trade more than a kiss.”

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> As it happens sometimes, I put an apostroph on Charles where none was needed. So of course I tried to put the blame elsewhere.
> 
> Me: It's a drunk apostroph! It went out and couldn't find its way back so it attached itself to the next best Charles it could find.
> 
> [Lonelyparts](../../../users/lonelyparts/pseuds/lonelyparts): that almost sounds like a cherik fic plot. XD
> 
> I liked the idea and wanted to read it – so I wrote it. Hope you enjoyed.


End file.
